


The Birds and the Boulders

by octopus_fool



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Community: hobbit_kink, Eggs, Family, Fluff, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Mpreg-ish, Weird Hobbit Biology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 03:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopus_fool/pseuds/octopus_fool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bofur learns an unexpected lesson in hobbit biology.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Birds and the Boulders

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3393.html?thread=6290753#t6290753) at the Hobbit Kink Meme.

“Bofur! Bofur, come inside, you have to see this!” 

Bofur turned away from the roses in Bag End’s garden and looked at the excited hobbit running towards him.

“Is everything alright?” Bilbo’s excitement seemed happy, but as he had felt a bit under the weather earlier, Bofur wanted to be sure.

“More than alright! Come and see!” Bilbo grabbed his husband’s hand and pulled him into the smial and towards their bedroom.

“If this is some elaborate plot to get me back to bed, all you had to do was ask,” Bofur said with a grin.

Bilbo slapped Bofur’s arm lightly. “You have such a one-track mind. Well, we may soon be too busy for much of that.”

Bilbo tugged Bofur into the bedroom and proudly looked at the bed.

“That’s... an egg,” Bofur said blankly. 

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Bilbo gushed, going over to the bed and gently stroking the egg that was about as large as a goose’s.

“What’s so wonderful about an egg?” Bofur only barely refrained from commenting about making omelettes.

Bilbo’s face fell. “Aren’t you happy we’re going to be parents?”

“Parents? What do you mean, ‘parents’?”

“I laid an egg while you were outside, so of course we’ll be parents in about three months’ time if everything goes well. I should have realised earlier. The urge to make soft and comfortable things during the last couple of days should have been a clue, just like feeling a bit unwell earlier, but it’s not as if I’ve done this before.” Bilbo tugged at the blankets while talking, turning them into a kind of nest.

“Bilbo, you do know that children are not created by laying eggs, don’t you?”

“How else should they come into the world? Surely it is the same with dwarves and those stories about dwarves hatching out of cold stone are just old wives’ tales.”

“Of course we aren’t born from stone! Dwarrowdams push them from their bodies, not that I ever cared to know about the details.”

“You mean without the shell? Doesn’t it hurt to have the broken shell inside?” Bilbo looked horrified.

Bofur remembered the way Nanis had screamed and cursed Bombur so loudly while giving birth that Bofur had been able to hear her from two rooms away. Still, Bofur was fairly certain that eggshells had not been involved.

Bofur shook his head. “I don’t think there are any eggshells at all.”

Bilbo shuddered. “That’s not... very proper. But different strokes for different folks, I guess.”

“And you are sure that this is how it works with hobbits?” Bofur asked, hovering next to the bed. “We are really going to have a child soon?”

Bilbo nodded. “I have seen quite a few cousins hatch. There may be more than one child though. It’s quite rare that only one egg is laid, my parents were a bit of an exception. Usually, a second egg is laid after a few days, sometimes even a third.” Bilbo gently rested his hands over the egg.

Bofur closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Mahal, I am going to be a father!” A wide grin spread across his face.

Bilbo smiled as well. “Well, come here and say hello.”

Bofur carefully sat down on the edge of the bed. He hesitantly stretched out a hand before pulling it back again.

“Are you sure...”

“Don’t worry. It won’t break quite that easily.”

Bofur carefully stroked the cream-white shell, barely daring to breathe.

After a while, he looked up at Bilbo and pulled him in for a kiss.

“What do we do now? Do we have to squat over it like a hen to keep it warm?” 

Bilbo burst out laughing. “Of course not! That hasn’t needed to be done since before hobbits began settling in the Shire. Wait a moment.”

He got up and began looking through the closet. Finally, he pulled out a belt-like object.

“Here, this is the pouch I was carried around in before I hatched.”

Bilbo unbuttoned it and showed Bofur the padded interior. There was thick, woollen isolation towards the outside but only a thin layer of fabric on the inside so that the body heat would warm the eggs. The interior was divided into three separate compartments which could be taken out once the eggs had hatched. Parts of the isolation could also be taken out to allow some air in.

Bofur fastened the pouch around Bilbo’s waist and Bilbo carefully picked up the egg and set it in the middle compartment. 

 

Within a week, two more eggs had joined the first one and Bilbo proudly paraded the pouch around Hobbiton. 

The neighbours smiled at them. “Oh, are you nesting then? When are they due to hatch?”

“I only laid them last week,” Bilbo replied, “so it will be a while still.”

Bofur occasionally had to pinch himself to remind himself that they were really waiting for their children to _hatch_.

They took turns at night. One of them got a proper night’s rest while the other settled in the large armchair with the pouch in order to prevent the eggs from being damaged. 

 

As impatient as they had been at the beginning, the three months passed faster than they had expected.  
One morning when Bofur was turning the eggs to make sure that they weren’t only warmed from one side, he noticed there was a speck on one of the eggs. He took a closer look.

Bofur panicked. “Bilbo! I think I damaged one of the eggs!” 

He rushed over to Bilbo, gently cradling the egg in his hands.

Bilbo inspected the egg and broke into a giddy grin. “You didn’t damage it; it’s hatching!”

“But... it’s only been...” Bofur quickly tried to calculate in his head but Bilbo was faster.

“It’s been three months to the day! Oh Bofur, it’s hatching!”

They carefully placed the egg back into the pouch and then hugged, careful not to apply pressure to the pouch.

They spent the next few hours mostly hovering about the smial, trying not to take the egg out every five minutes to check the progress. Bilbo went through the baby clothes he had made, bought and been gifted during the past few months.

“The crack still isn’t much bigger,” Bofur fretted that evening. “Are you sure everything is all right? Should we help it out of the shell?”

“It just needs time. By trying to help, we would risk doing more harm than good. If there is still no progress by tomorrow evening, then we can start to consider doing something. Right now, we just need to be patient, even if it’s hard.”

Bofur wanted to stay up, but Bilbo sent him to bed. “Get some rest while you still can. The nights are soon going to be quite a bit noiser. I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

 

The sun was already shining when Bilbo gently shook Bofur’s shoulder. “Wake up, Bofur.”

“Whassat?”

“The crack in the egg is quite large, it won’t be long now. And there is a small crack in the second egg as well.”

Bofur quickly sat up and took a look at the egg. There was a crack reaching around most of the top of the egg and small fragments of shell lay around it. Occasionally, Bilbo and Bofur could see movement inside as the baby chipped at the shell with the hardened structure on its nose. After a while, the baby began pressing itself against the eggshell, causing the top half of the shell to start breaking off. 

Bilbo and Bofur held their breath and watched. When the baby had nearly pushed the top half of the shell off, Bilbo reached down, removed that half and carefully helped the baby out the shell completely.

“Hello there,” he whispered as the baby blinked at him with blue eyes. “Aren’t you just a beautiful little boy?”

Bilbo gently washed the baby and dabbed him dry with a small towel. Bofur hovered over his shoulder, his eyes wide. 

Bilbo turned and smiled at him. “Are you ready to hold our little Balfo?”

Bofur nodded, incapable of speaking. Bilbo carefully handed him their son. Balfo fitted into Bofur’s hands comfortably. Even Bombur’s youngest, who had been born nearly two months too early, had been almost twice Balfo’s size.

“He’s so tiny,” Bofur breathed. 

Bilbo laughed softly. “He’s one of the biggest newly-hatcheds I’ve seen. It must be the dwarf blood.”

They watched the tiny fingers curl and uncurl and admired the smattering of dark curls on Balfo’s head. They dressed him in bright-green knitted clothes and he made a soft mewling sound.

“He’s hungry,” Bilbo realised and took the baby back from Bofur to nurse him. They settled Balfo back into the pouch when he fell asleep.

 

The next egg hatched at lunchtime the next day. Again, they watched in amazement as the crack widened and the top half of the egg began to be pushed off.

“Why don’t you do the honours this time?” Bilbo whispered when the hatching had progressed far enough. 

Trying to keep from trembling, Bofur removed the remaining shell.

“It’s a girl,” Bofur breathed in astonishment. “Welcome, little Vinca!” 

“Her eyes are darker than her brother’s,” Bilbo realised. “I think she might have brown eyes when she’s older.”

Vinca began mewling as they washed and dressed her.

“She’s an impatient one,” Bilbo laughed and began nursing her. Bofur gently stroked her blond curls.

Bilbo and Bofur removed the compartment in which Vinca’s egg had lain and settled her in beside her brother. They gazed down at their sleeping children for a while before closing the pouch again to make sure their children didn’t get too cold.

 

Bofur felt he could practically watch Balfo and Vinca grow as the days passed. They spent most of their time eating and sleeping, but Bofur could have spent hours just looking at them.

The third egg took its time.

“Do you think everything is alright?” Bofur fretted.

Bilbo nodded. “Vinca hatched early, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

Finally, three days after Vinca had hatched, the first cracks began appearing on the egg and Bofur breathed a sigh of relief. That afternoon, they sat watching the cracks grow larger as Bilbo nursed Balfo and Vinca.

Again, Bofur was the one to help the baby out of the egg and wash it, slightly less nervous this time. 

“Another boy,” Bofur smiled as he dressed the baby. Bilbo settled Balfo and Vinca back into the pouch and took their youngest.

“Hello, my darling little Folgo.” He gazed down at his son and laughed softly. “There’s no denying your dwarven heritage, is there? That’s quite a lovely beginning of a beard you have there.”

“Will the other children tease him because of it?” Bofur asked worriedly.

“Oh, don’t worry, they won’t mind as children. And when Folgo is older, he’ll be quite in demand. Hobbits love the exotic charm of a good beard.”

Bilbo gently tugged Bofur over by his moustache for a kiss.

 

All three babies thrived and grew. Bilbo and Bofur were constantly busy feeding them and changing nappies. As they grew, Bilbo kept them out of the pouch for longer periods, as they were less in danger of getting cold even without the constant body heat of one of their parents.

One evening, when the babies were about a month old, Bilbo looked up from changing Folgo’s nappy and stretched his head from side to side.

“You know, I think they are old enough to sleep in a crib now. And it will be wonderful to sleep in a real bed again every night.”

Bofur nodded. “I’m getting quite tired of all those cricks in my neck. I’ll get the crib out then.”

Bilbo settled down in the armchair in their bedroom and began nursing the babies as Bofur got the crib from the storeroom. He smiled at the lullabies Bilbo sang as Bofur made sure the crib was stable.

Bofur took sheets and the sleeping bags out of the closet and prepared the crib.

“There, we’re all set now...” Bofur trailed off when he turned around towards Bilbo.

Bilbo had fallen asleep holding their children, his mouth hanging slightly open. Bofur gazed at his little family for a while, warmth spreading through his heart. 

Finally, he tenderly carried Balfo, Vinca and Folgo over to their new crib and settled them into the sleeping bags. He pressed a kiss to Bilbo’s forehead.

“Come on, love. The little badgers are asleep. Let’s go to bed.”


End file.
